Goat Breeding Stepladder

Let me introduce you to Casanova—our young Boer buck. He’s 10 months old, full of enthusiasm, hormones, and confidence he absolutely hasn’t earned yet. True to his name, he’s eager to romance the ladies. There's just one small hitch... he’s also short.

And the does? Well, they’re not.

Now, he tries. Oh, he gives it everything he’s got—there’s huffing, there’s grunting, there’s awkward circling. But at the end of the day, his little hooves just don’t reach high enough to seal the deal.

So, like any practical farm gal with a bit of leftover plywood and a good sense of barnyard mechanics, I built him a platform.

Yes. A platform.

Picture a sturdy little structure with a cutout in just the right spot. Casanova climbs up, the doe backs in, and voila, everyone’s happy. Mission accomplished. Dreams achieved. Stars aligned. Baby goats pending.

Of course, I can’t just leave the doe in his pen and hope for the best. Left to her own devices, she stands there like, “What’s this nonsense?” and wanders off to eat something. Meanwhile, poor Casanova's up on his platform trying to romance air. It’s like watching a very confused dance recital with only one participant.

So instead, I schedule conjugal visits. I bring the doe in, back her into position like I’m parking a livestock trailer, and let nature do its thing—with a little human assistance and a lot of goat commentary.

Some may say it's a bit unconventional. I say it's ingenious. Around here, if there’s a problem, we build our way out of it.

Love might not conquer all, but a well-timed platform and a determined farm woman sure come close.